Maintaining Focus

When not immersed in this Vanagon conversion project, I've been slowly reintegrating myself back into the LA music scene, or what's left of it. While tooling around town in the Chinook for the occasional rehearsal or, gasp, actual paying gig (there are a few of those out there still), shades of my early days in The Falcon come to mind. You know, way back when I was an exclusively LA-based urban nomad, and long before it ever occurred to me to leave this city for destinations beyond.

Several steps up from The Falcon, the Chinook continues to shine as an amazingly comfortable and well-equipped urban rolling home, so I suppose it would only be natural for me to entertain second thoughts about my spartan Vanagon plan from time to time. You know, like when lifting up a door step mat for the first time to find some pretty gnarly rust staring back at me.

I am pleasantly surprised, however, by the fact that I've managed to keep a mostly level head about this project so far, rolling with the punches and just taking it a step at a time. The old pre-simple life Glenn would not have had that response, but present-day me finds an almost zen-like quiet in methodically breaking things down into bite-sized tasks and tackling each without getting too emotional about all that remains to be done.

A detour of a few days to repair some unexpected rust is just another step in the process and an opportunity to learn something new. And yes, it's also a chance to spend some more money, but what good is money if you can't occasionally spend it on toxic substances known to the state of California to cause cancer and/or reproductive harm? Actually, at the not very tender age of 43, the latter concerns me less and less, much to my dear mother's chagrin. Sigh. Some people can never have enough grandchildren...

I digress.

I'm not sure how, but three and a half years of simple living appears to have equipped me to deal with the unexpected challenges that a project of this scope inevitably presents. Old Glenn would be sitting here at step three while dwelling way too much on the billion or so steps that remain, but current Glenn is focused on step three for as long as it takes to properly bring about step four. I dare say that this revelation alone might be sufficient reason to take the plunge and adopt the simple life on wheels for a few years!

Big props also must go to Q for helping to keep me focused on the present task, between his ultimate set of tools that easily puts Spicoli's father to shame, and more importantly, the occasional well placed bit of encouragement or philosophical insight. The recent words of Mr. Money Mustache, one of my favorite bloggers, come to mind:

"Friends are worth their weight in gold... Without good reliable friends, life is less fun and more difficult. Do whatever it takes to earn and keep them!"

Word.

Sitting quietly for a few minutes each day and reminding myself why I'm even attempting this Vanagon conversion is also helping to keep my head on straight. When I stop and picture my vision for this project, my irrational fears dissipate and I start to get excited about the whole thing all over again. Freedom to go almost anywhere and aimlessly explore at will, significantly lower operating costs, intimate knowledge of practically every corner of my rolling home, and a setup that's equipped with everything I need and nothing I don't – what's not to be excited about?

So...following a day of careful research and shopping around for supplies, I am now poised to put my rust repair hat on in the morning. Stay tuned for the thrilling conclusion, or at the very least, pictures of a very amateur hack-job.